Chapter One

I looked behind me and saw the man staring at me with his piercing green eyes. He had a wide, evil smile upon his face.

"I figured that wasn't your stop," he replied, his voice ringing with a tone of amusement. The train accelerated violently, causing our bodies to bump against each other again. I cringed and whimpered under my breath. This was the worst T ride of my life. I looked at the man again, and his eyes glinted with amusement. He leaned forward, staring me straight in the eyes. Our close proximity made me extremely uncomfortable, and I thought I heard him chuckle under his breath.

"Much better," he purred, "now why don't you start by telling me your name."

"I'd rather not," I replied, my brow furrowing in disgust.

"Stubborn are we?" he chuckled. "Amazing the difference a little distance makes. Everyone here lives together in the same realm, the same country even, and yet such a small distance makes for very different people."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, thoroughly annoyed and confused. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

He looked genuinely surprised at my question. He raised one eyebrow at me and paused for a moment, pondering his answer carefully.

"Fascinating," he said, "my name and face were everywhere just a short time ago, and yet the people in this city don't seem to notice or care. For example, here you are, clueless as to who you're talking to. It's truly amazing."

"Look, buddy," I growled, "I don't know what you're getting at, but you need to stop and leave me alone." I was trying to act tough, but on the inside I was terrified.

"I look around this train," the man continued, "at all of these people huddled together like cattle. They are all very much a herd. They care not who rides with them, or what transpires in the Universe around them. I haven't been in this city very long and I have already noticed that this is a trend here. These people, they do not notice who walks among them, and nor do they care. Even extraordinary men are meaningless in their eyes."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I take it you're one of those 'extraordinary men'?"

He smiled mischievously. "You will see," he answered.

"I'll pass, thanks," I replied.

"Next stop, Government Center," the mechanical announcer chimed, "change here for the Blue Line."

I shifted my bags, strongly considering getting off here. The man looked sharply at me and shook his head.

"Don't try to fool me," he said, "this isn't your stop either."

"And how in the world would you know that?" I snapped.

"I have my ways," he said.

"What do you want from me?" I growled.

"Relax, love," he replied, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then leave me alone," I said.

With a loud squeal of the breaks, the train came to a halt. The doors opened, and a surge of people came onto the train. The added volume caused everyone to squish together further. I whimpered and almost cried when my body was pushed flush up against his. This was way too close for comfort. I looked around desperately for somewhere else to stand, for somewhere else to go. But the train was so overstuffed that there was nowhere. So there I stood, pressed up against this creep, wanting desperately, more than anything, to get off this train.

There was no avoiding his gaze now; we were too close together. He smirked at me and gripped the railing directly above my head. His face was very close to mine, and it made me sick to my stomach.

"Cozy, isn't it?" he teased, sensing my discomfort.

I pretended to ignore him. I pretended like the closeness did not bother me. I pretended like I wasn't afraid. But deep down I was very afraid, and somehow I also liked it. Despite how he creeped me out, he was very attractive, and being up against him somehow felt nice, despite my growing fear. It was the strangest sensation I have ever felt, and while I liked being so close to someone so attractive, it still made me want to jump off this train.

"You're trembling," he said. I swallowed hard. I could feel a bead of sweat forming on my temple from my nervousness. He leaned his face closer to me, so that I could feel his breath on my neck. It made me grow faint, and I could feel my knees start to buckle from the overwhelming sensation of his proximity. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered in my ear.

"Please leave me alone," I pleaded almost inaudibly, "whatever you want, get it from someone else."

"Next stop, Park Street," the mechanical voice announced.

"I must confess there is something I want from you," he said, "and don't you even think of getting off here."

His tone was soothing yet threatening at the same time. It made me shudder.

"Whatever it is, the answer's no," I said.

"Come now, help a stranger out," he purred. "You see, I got on this train rather by… accident. I'm not entirely sure where it goes. Perhaps you can show me."

"Get a T map," I growled in reply.

"Not as useful," he replied, "I could use a personal escort."

I could tell he was lying, and he was lying rather badly too. I almost got the sense that he was doing it intentionally. There was an ulterior motive here. This "escort" crap was just a ruse for something else that I didn't want anything to do with. "Not interested," I responded.

"Oh but I think you are," he replied, his grin widening and his eyes narrowing. "I saw the way you looked at me. You think your longing glances escape my notice? It was rather amusing, actually. Everyone else in this city has managed to completely ignore my existence, yet you stared at me as if I were some human idol. I can see your face twitching, your body trembling, and your breath catching in your throat. You pretend not to notice me, not to care. You pretend like I don't intrigue and captivate you, but I see differently. You are drawn to me." I shuddered again at this statement. "You had the opportunity to escape, and yet you didn't take it," he continued. "You stayed on this train willingly. These are your choices, so I think, my dear, that you are very interested."

I was barely breathing. He had seen me staring at him back there at North Station. My worst fears had just been realized. And now here he had me trapped with him, trapped inside this crowded train, with absolutely nowhere to go. I was pinned down and cornered, and I was too helpless to deny whatever he asked of me.

"Entering Park Street," the automated voice announced, "change here for the Red Line."

I stole a terrified glance into those brilliant, hypnotic eyes. He shook his head, denying me the opportunity to escape him.

Luckily, a large number of people got off at this stop, allowing everyone to spread out a little. I sighed with relief when I was able to put some space in between us.

"Whatever you want just hurry up and ask for it," I said breathlessly.

"Good girl," he said with a smirk. "Now, let's try this again. Won't you tell me your name so I know to whom I'm speaking?"

I groaned. There was no way of getting out of this.

"Emily," I replied, "Emily Sanborn."

It looked like I was helping this guy and telling him everything he wanted to know whether I liked it or not.

I dropped my bags to the floor as soon as I stepped into my apartment. I left them there in a careless heap, stumbled over to my couch, and collapsed.

What a nightmare this evening had been! I was so thankful that it was finally over and that the strange man was gone. I ended up giving him a tutorial on Boston's T system, getting him a city map, showing him around the entire Back Bay, and finding him a hotel in the Back Bay.

The entire time, we were fighting huge crowds of people in costume going to and from bars, clubs, and house parties. The man didn't look the least bit amused, and I also admit that it was getting a bit annoying after a while. When we passed by the colleges in the Back Bay it was even worse. There was one college guy in particular who came up to us, stood right in front of the man I was escorting, and started yelling all sorts of stupid stuff at him. He insisted that my stranger's name was Loki, that he was an alien, and that he was responsible for blowing up New York. The kid reeked heavily of beer, so I am attributing his outbursts to a drunken fit. My creeper looked less than impressed, and I was embarrassed on behalf of all of Boston.

Luckily, my creeper never asked where I lived, so after I left him at his hotel I got back on the T and went home. What creeped me out the most was what happened when I dropped him off at his hotel. Before we parted ways he promised me that we would see each other again. His words had me so panicked that I cried a little on the T on the way home. Fortunately he was staying in a different neighborhood than I lived, so I didn't have to worry too much about running into him. I was just going to have to stay out of the Back Bay for a while.

I actually didn't know how long he was staying here in Boston. I didn't know where he had come from or what he was here for. Shit, I didn't even know his name. He practically interrogated me the entire night, but I didn't know a thing about him. He never asked any specifics about where I worked or lived, but I did end up telling him some personal stuff.

God what a stupid move that was!

I certainly regretted it later.

Luckily I didn't work in the Back Bay, so I could go to work tomorrow without worrying about seeing him again.

Work. Shit. That's right. I had work in the morning.

Luckily the next day was Friday, but it was still another workday. It was already 11:30, and I really didn't feel like dragging myself up at 5:30 am to go to work. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, and the last thing I needed was to spend eight hours in a cubicle going through two pounds of New Hampshire resumes. But nevertheless, I had to go. So dragging my aching, exhausted body off the couch, I proceeded to get ready for bed.

5:30 came way too early.

I nearly broke my alarm clock when I hit it, sending it tumbling onto the carpet. It took me forever to quite literally roll out of bed, and I somehow made my way to the shower without falling over myself.

My night had only gotten worse after I got home. I spent most of the night tossing and turning because I was thinking nonstop about that guy I met on the T. He creeped me out so badly, and yet for some stupid reason, I kept dreaming about his promise of seeing each other again. I dreamt that I actually wanted to see him again. Stupid, I know, but that was what my subconscious was clearly thinking all night. His memory wouldn't leave me alone, and his face haunted my dreams.

I don't know why my subconscious was obsessing over him so much. It had not been a particularly pleasant evening, and it certainly wasn't something I ever wanted to repeat again. Why couldn't my evening with a hot guy have consisted of something normal, like a coffee date or a drink? Not towing his ass all over Boston! But then again, I had the absolute worst luck with men, so it makes sense that this kind of stupidity would happen to me.

I sighed. All I wanted was my coffee.

Coffee would make everything better, just like it always did.

I turned up the radio and proceeded to prettify myself for the day. I definitely put less effort into my appearance than I did in college, but I still cared about what I looked like. My hair was the color of pale straw, and it was cut into a short bob that was longer in the front than the back. Prior to getting this haircut two years ago I had never had hair this short, but it quickly grew on me. It was so easy to take care of, and it pretty much styled itself. My bobbed hair definitely made me look older, but it also made me look classy, and I loved it. I had decided that short hair was for me, and that I was definitely never going back to long locks again.

As I was putting on makeup, I heard the traffic report come on the radio. I chuckled as the announcer spoke too fast for the human ear to possibly follow. There were always so many traffic problems to cram into such a short segment that the announcers were impossible to understand. By the time you mentally processed the details of one accident, they had already discussed three others. Driving in this city was absolutely insane. I understood the pain of Boston commuters because I drove in this chaos plenty of times myself. Insane Boston drivers eventually totaled my poor Civic, leaving me car-less and dependent on public transit. But that was perfectly fine with me. I drove a lot of rentals when I had to travel, and everything else I needed in my life was a short walk or T ride away.

The announcer described a horrific backup from an accident at the Route 3 interchange, the backup on I-93 that stretched up into New Hampshire, the parking lots that route 128 and 495 had become, the standstill on Storrow Drive, another accident at the toll plaza on the Mass Pike, the gridlock in Callahan tunnel, and the 20 mph speeds on the Bunker Hill Bridge. I couldn't help but laugh as I listened to this. I was so glad that I took the T to work.

By the time I was done prettifying, it was already almost 7 am. I was definitely moving slow this morning. Normally I would have scrambled to get ready faster, but this morning I was so distracted that I really didn't care. So I took my time as I donned a charcoal women's suit, fashion scarf, and black pumps. Lastly, I placed my rimless glasses onto my heart-shaped face, making my almond-shaped blue eyes magnify ever so slightly.

I was now finally ready for work. So locking up my apartment, I proceeded out onto the street.

It was definitely cold this morning, and the air was damp. A thin layer of cold mist covered me, and I crossed my arms across my chest and shivered. The coat I was wearing was definitely not enough to protect me from the cold and the moisture. The two-pound bag of resumes hung achingly on my shoulder, and it too was getting damp from the mist. The clouded sky, faintly grey from the waxing morning light, hung drearily above. It was now November in New England: the greyest and most depressing time of year. We were not yet off daylight savings, so the sun was coming up later and later each day. Today I doubted that the overcast would allow us to see much light even when the sun did rise. And even if it weren't overcast, I wouldn't see much of the daylight anyway because I was about to spend the next eight hours trapped in an office cubicle.

My day was certainly going to drag even worse because of my distracted state of mind. The memories of last night were a muddled and confused mess due to my lack of coffee and lack of sleep. All of this: my state of mind, my sour mood, and my fatigue, were all a result of that damn creeper from North Station. He remained on my mind the entire morning, even in my confused, under-caffeinated brain fog. And no matter how much I tried to fight it, I had no choice but to give in to my own obsessions and desires to see him again. I sighed. I was completely unwilling to do anything today except go back to bed.

I needed my coffee desperately.

I stopped at Dunkin Donuts every morning on my way to work. I couldn't survive the workday without my morning cup of Dunkin. This morning I needed it more than ever, and I fully planned on getting a large with an added shot of espresso.

So I headed to my corner Dunkin Donuts and waited in the line that stretched practically around the block. Today the line was unusually long. It was probably from all of the people hung over from last night's festivities. I went to a Dunkin that was only accessible by walking, so it had no drive-thru to hold us up. But the line was still slow and long, and I was not in a patient mood. I stood on my tiptoes and tried to peer inside. The line completely filled the inside of the shop. So I was stuck standing outside in the brisk air.

What a terrific way to start my day: cold, wet, exhausted, and annoyingly distracted.

Days like this made me seriously reevaluate the state of my life. I didn't have a very exciting existence. You could say that I was just your average woman. When I wasn't on a business trip my daily routine consisted of Dunkin Donuts, riding the T to work, sitting at a cubicle all day, riding the T home, cooking dinner, and watching TV until I went to bed. My weekends weren't the most exciting either, and they mostly consisted of my cats, TV, and the occasional coffee date with a friend.

So that was my life, day after day, year after year. Nothing ever changed. I will admit that I was quite bored with my life. I often fantasized about changing it, about doing something more exciting. I didn't want to be an office drone for the rest of my life. I liked the fact that my job allowed me to travel, but traveling on business wasn't really all that much fun. Don't get me wrong, I liked my job, but I wasn't overly excited with it. The job had lost its charm. It was exciting at first, but now I was bored with it. And now here I was, 32, and trapped in the clutches of everyday monotony with no end in sight.

This kind of life was completely out of character for me. I had been a bit of a wild child all through college. I went to a school that had a reputation for partying, and I did exactly what I went there for: partying. Fraternities ruled my nights and weekends during my first two years, and bars and clubs dominated my last two years. However, when I graduated with my business degree, the realities of life set in. I took a job, got my own place, and started paying back my student loans. For a while after college I tried to balance work with partying, but as the years went by my partying became less and less frequent. Now it was almost nonexistent. My life consisted of work, bills, business trips, coffee, and my cats.

I sometimes wished that I had a different life. I wished it was more fun, exciting, and adventurous. I wished that I could get out of the rut of a routine I was stuck in. My wild side was dormant but not dead, and it was dying to be let out again. That morning on November 1st, as I waited in line at Dunkin Donuts, this desire began to consume my thoughts completely. That morning I thought of nothing but the stranger from yesterday and my desire for more adventure in my life.

That's probably how I got myself into this shit in the first place.

I spent the next eight hours in real corporate drudgery. I wasn't directly responsible for hiring anyone, but I was one of the people in charge of sorting through resumes and weeding out all of the candidates that didn't meet the minimum qualifications. So for the next eight hours, I sifted through bad resume after bad resume, tossing out the ones that were blatantly unqualified. In between this, I sat through phone calls from needy employees, and listened to PR periodically whine about stupid shit.

I was jumping for joy by four o'clock, and with my current mood, I was one of the first people out the door. I was free for the weekend, and for the first time since yesterday evening I was in a good mood.

My first task was to pick up my two cats from my best friend Keisha, who had been cat-sitting for the last four days while I was in New Hampshire. Keisha always took care of my cats while I was on a business trip, so she was practically their second owner.

So on my way out of the office I dialed her.

"Hey you," said her boisterous voice over the phone, "I have your kitties."

"Awesome! Thank you so much!" I said. "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Well right now I'm in Copley," she replied.

My heart sank into my stomach.

"C-Copley?" I said, my voice trembling from panic.

"Ya," Keisha answered, clearly not noticing my change in tone. "I figured Copley was certainly closer for your office than my apartment."

I appreciated the thought, but Copley… no… anywhere but Copley.

"And you wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get the kitties in their crates and on the T," Keisha replied. "They're such a pain in the butt."

I felt that sickening sensation from last night again.

"You want me to meet you in Copley?" I asked breathlessly.

"Ya, is that a problem?"

Yes that was a problem! Copley was in the Back Bay!

"Um, kinda," I squeaked.

"After I came all the way over here?" Keisha asked, sounding annoyed. "Come on Em."

No, please, anywhere but the Back Bay. I would have taken the North End, Kenmore, the Common, the bottom of the Charles River… anywhere but the Back Bay!

"Please don't make me go to the Back Bay," I begged my friend.

"Why not?" Keisha asked, genuinely confused. "I'm over here, your cats are here, and I don't want to make them travel on the T any more than they have to."

"You don't understand, Keisha," I replied, "I can't go to the Back Bay."

"Why not?"

I sighed. "There's someone I'm avoiding," I answered. "And he's staying over there."

"Oh come on Em don't be ridiculous," Keisha laughed, "it's one of the busiest parts of the entire city. What are the odds of you running into this person? What's got you so worked up anyway?"

"It's a long story," I replied, "Just please don't make me come over there."

"Too late," said Keisha, "I'm already here because I didn't think it would be a problem. So please just come here, pick up your cats, and if you want to leave right away, you can do that. But I really don't want to get back on the T with these animal crates."

I sighed. This was not happening to me. This could not possibly be happening to me.

This was definitely a testament to how much I loved these animals.

"All right, I'll be right there," I sighed.

"Meet you at 500 Boylston."

My heart dropped again and nearly stopped beating. That was right near his hotel. I wanted to arrange a different pickup location, but decided against it. Keisha had done a lot for me already, and I figured I shouldn't be more annoying than I already was.

I was just going to get there, grab my cats, and get home as fast as humanly possible without being detected.

That was the plan anyway.

I know I looked absolutely ridiculous on the T.

There I was, hiding behind a group of people on the T, hidden beneath my jacket hood. I wore a pair of sunglasses, even in the dark subway tunnel, and people kept giving me weird looks. I'm sure I was attracting more attention this way, but at least my face was hidden. Every time the train stopped and the doors opened, I crouched down low so that I was shorter than everyone else around me. I hoped and prayed that he wouldn't get on this train. Looking back on it, I was being absolutely ridiculous, but at the time I was petrified. I felt that hiding like this was the only thing I could possibly do.

Luckily, the T ride was free of my creeper. However, I was even more nervous walking through the streets, being open and vulnerable and all that. Luckily, I chose to get on a line that dropped me right near 500 Boylston, so I tucked my face inside my hood and practically ran over there.

I was relieved when I saw the towering glass structures, stone columns, and stone beam that read "Five Hundred Boylston". I saw Keisha, dressed in a sage green coat, leggings, and biker boots, standing in the courtyard waiting for me. In her hands she held the crates that contained my two cats. She didn't recognize me until I was practically on top of her.

"Hey Em," she said, looking me up and down quizzically, "whatcha doin?"

"Oh nothing," I lied, "just walking."

"Uh huh," Keisha replied, raising a black eyebrow at me. The expression on her chocolate face told me that she didn't buy it.

"I feel like I'm in some sort of drug deal," she laughed, "here's the goods, now where's the money?"

"Very funny Keisha," I replied irritably.

"Jeez, what's the matter today?" she asked, rolling her brown eyes.

"Nothing, it's just…" I stammered, "…thanks for watching the cats."

"Not a problem I loved having them," Keisha said with a beaming smile, "Caesar was being a cuddlebug the whole time."

"How did the little missy hold up?" I asked.

"Oh Lady L," she laughed, poking my female cat's crate, "she chewed a couple things up, killed a mouse and left it in my sink, and scratched me something good." I cringed when she showed me five claw marks on her hand. "But other than that she was a sweetie."

Keisha was laughing and thoroughly enjoying herself, and meanwhile I kept looking around and over my shoulder like a panicked lunatic. Keisha unfortunately noticed.

"Hey hon, you want to meet up later and talk about what's wrong?" she offered. "I'm concerned for you."

"That would actually be spectacular," I replied, looking everywhere else but at her.

"I'll call you later," Keisha replied. "We'll meet on your end, how's that?"

"Thanks Keish," I said with a smile, "love ya."

"Mmmm hmmm," she said with a grin. She waved at the animals and said "bye guys. You be good for Em."

I was so thankful when I was finally able to get moving again. I was so close to the T stop that would take me home. If I could just get to it and get on the T without being detected, I would be all set. Hugging my animals close and tightening my hood, I hoofed it back to the T.

Unfortunately heading toward the Copley stop meant heading toward his hotel.

And with my stupid ass luck, he was heading down Boylston St in the opposite direction of me.

I saw that confident strut and menacing silhouette and immediately knew it was him. He had on the same clothes as yesterday, except this time his coat was buttoned and his scarf was tied to shield him against the cold wind that whipped between the buildings. I put my head down, hoping that my hood would shield my face from him. We were going to walk right by each other. I prayed that he wouldn't recognize me. All I wanted was to get my cats and I home without incident.

I veered over to the far right edge of the sidewalk until I was practically brushing the parked cars. Boylston St. was super crowded as usual, so there were a number of rows of people between his side of the street and mine. I hoped that I would just blend in with the crowd. I tried my best to blend, to escape his notice, to hide my face.

I avoided looking at him as we finally passed each other. I was too nervous to even look at him from the corner of my eye. I tucked my head as low as I could and walked as fast as I could. My heart stopped during the few seconds it took for us to pass each other, but once we did, it resumed beating again. I hoped that I had avoided him successfully.

All I needed was to get on that train and get the hell out of the Back Bay as fast as I could.

I ran down the stairs and into the subway tunnel. It was rush hour, so there was a small line forming at the gates. As I was about to run over to get in line, I felt a cold hand grip my shoulder firmly, stopping me in my tracks.

I let out a small yelp and spun around. To my horror, the first thing I saw when I turned around were two brilliant emerald eyes looking down at me. His piercing gaze seemed to cut through me, and it was all I could do to keep from fainting.

The man's eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into his trademark smirk. In my horror I almost dropped my cats.

"Well then," he said, his voice seeping with malicious amusement. "Look who's wandered her way back to me…"